


Hiraeth

by maybetimeless, orphan_account



Category: Produce 101 (TV), Wanna One (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Angst, M/M, actors!winkdeep, exes!winkdeep
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-18
Updated: 2018-05-18
Packaged: 2019-05-04 21:03:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14601657
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maybetimeless/pseuds/maybetimeless, https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Feelings were weird. Years later, he still thought of Jinyoung as his. But there were no other ways to describe it. They had been each other’s for a better part of their most impressionable days. First kisses, first times, first heartbreak – they’ve shared it all. How do you part from that? When all that Jihoon has ever known was Bae Jinyoung. AU in which WinkDeep are ex-boyfriends but they have to film a drama together.For the prompt: Bae Jinyoung was a rookie model when he got an offer to star in a new romance comedy drama with the rising young actor Park Jihoon. The only problem was that Park Jihoon was Jinyoung's ex. Where Jinyoung tries to focus on the script given by the producer but fails miserably when his eyes meet with Jihoon's sparkling ones.





	Hiraeth

**Author's Note:**

  * For [panwinkdeep](https://archiveofourown.org/users/panwinkdeep/gifts).



How they met wasn’t important.

Frankly, Jinyoung didn’t quite remember, the memory lost somewhere along the way memories did. And memories worked in a funny way didn’t they? Maybe all this time, he was foolishly happy alone. But they had been in love, hadn’t they? Surely, it was love. It might not have been as grand as the ones in dramas nor had it been as passionate as the ones in novels but it had been love nonetheless. And yet, it hadn’t been a love worthy enough for Jihoon to stay.

It was interesting to say that their break up had been more fiery and intense than any moment they had spent together. And much more than the humility of the scratchy rug digging into his knees, much more than his strength-less grip on Jihoon’s arm (as if physically holding him down would hold his heart down too), much more than any one of those combined, the humiliation of sitting in an empty house ringing with silence had hurt him the most. It was a physical kind of pain. He felt it all the way down to his guts and all the way up in his lungs and in every way pain was possibly felt on the human body. He remembered jerking forward into the toilet bowl, the stale and acidic taste of last night’s dinner swimming in his view. It was dark. They had fought and broken up with the lights off.

That had been 5 years ago.

5 years was a long time. Long enough for buildings to disappear. Long enough for the world to change. Long enough for people to change. And still he remembered Park Jihoon, not by the way he left him all alone in the dark, drunk and confused and heartbroken with his own vomit as his only company, but he remembered Park Jihoon by the shampoo he used and the perpetual cold of his skin and the way he looked on a Sunday morning splay across his bed like a work of art.

He stood in front of him now, an image of impeccable and self-made success – a Park Jihoon, Jinyoung had seen many times before on television and magazines but seeing him now, not 3 feet apart, well, he couldn’t help but think how 5 years certainly wasn’t enough time for feelings to change. He might have been taller and older and harder but indifference was something he was not. He never could play that feeling well when it came to the man who hurt him so badly, he sometimes wondered if it was possible to die from an aching heart after all.

He often wondered how Jihoon remembered him. If possible, he would like to be remembered as the immature young boy who had been irrevocably and foolishly in love. But with his luck, it was more than likely it would be the night he had begged and cried like a dog.

Five years was a long time.

It just wasn’t long enough.

* * *

The script reading was on a Thursday.

It was a particularly dreadful Thursday. The sky was gray and the clouds hung over the city like a cradle mobile. Jinyoung woke up to the incessant tapping of rain against his window, the kind that usually drew him to sleep but on that Thursday, it only irritated him. There was something unsettling swimming in his stomach and he turned his body face down in an attempt to drown it. He buried his head further into the pillow, the soft and newly washed sheets rubbing against his naked skin. In a sudden regressive moment, he reached his arms out to the side, hands mapping the empty space beside him. For a split second, he thought he felt a warmth he had not felt in a long time now. He inhaled. When he released, the air left him in a stream of hot breath. His fingers ran against the bare side of his bed, again and again and again. The rain persisted, louder than ever now, morning drizzles becoming a downpour. His room felt cold even though it was only the beginning of June, summer days merely weeks away.

Jihoon’s birthday had been last week, also on a Thursday. He had heard from a mutual friend that the party had been held in one of the newest clubs of Gangnam, a grand celebration that drew celebrities from all over – like vultures to a cadaver. He wondered whose idea it had been to hold such a public affair. Jihoon was never one for attention. Well, that was a lie. He _did_ crave attention but it was the sort of spotlight one received when their talents were recognized and acknowledged. Things like glitter and fictitious appreciation and the stuffy and suffocating air of a packed, dark, and dirty club room were far from Jihoon’s scene. Or maybe it had been Jihoon’s idea. Who’s to say? After all, it had been years since he properly interacted with the older actor, aside from the meaningless greetings in public events. Needless to say, Jinyoung hadn’t been invited despite the rest of South Korea’s presence.

He wasn’t upset. Not even a little bit.

Minhyun, his most loyal attendant and manager, would agree to disagree. But Jinyoung had more important matters to settle than his own ever-growing bitterness. Matters like the script reading that was due in a few hours. Which threw Jinyoung back into his initial angst. It was only polite to invite your future co-worker to your birthday party, wasn’t it? And it wasn’t like Jihoon didn’t know Jinyoung would be playing his other half. It had been established months ago – a rather public exposure when someone had leaked part of the script forcing the crew to make a very public statement. When the article was published, Daehwi had called him in the middle of the night and declared in very colorful words if there was something wrong with Jinyoung’s head. After all, who was foolish enough to accept a project when said person’s ex-boyfriend would be participating as well?

Jinyoung, that was who.

And he guessed, if he was a fool, Jihoon would be a bigger fool to not have rejected the offer.

They never really were the brightest couple around.

* * *

Two days after his break up with Bae Jinyoung, Jihoon drank himself into a stupor. One week later, the release of his debut movie shot him to fame. It was a melodramatic film with a title he was too embarrassed to say out loud now that he had grown out of his youth. Though five years later, he reckoned he hadn’t grown up after all – at least not when it came to the turmoil of emotions that Jinyoung’s presence brought. They came together like a package deal. Where there was Jinyoung there were flames, fiery and burning, scorching everything in its path until only ashes remained.

That was how they had loved each other. A love that was passionate and chaotic to the point where it was impossible not to have lost themselves in the destruction. Jihoon always theorized that was why they hadn’t worked out. His ambitions aside, loving Bae Jinyoung was like being tied to the middle of a bonfire. And there was nothing he could do but let the fire lick him charred, his oxygen smothered by every flame. It was always too much with the younger man. Too many feelings, too many words. Like being in the fast lane of the highway at all times. There was never really a moment of peace and quiet. Loving Bae Jinyoung was hard. Parting from him was harder.

But he had done both and now years later, they stood in front of each other, shadows of their mere selves. Physically, Jinyoung hadn’t changed much – maybe he was taller, legs leaner, arms stronger – but still so handsome. He had a face that was difficult to forget. A face that demanded attention. When Jinyoung was in the room, it was hard to look away.

Traumatic break up aside, his ex-boyfriend looked well. Jihoon wasn’t sure what he was expecting but a suave and indifferent man certainly wasn’t it. The Jinyoung he knew – _his_ Jinyoung – always wore his heart on his sleeve. This one, this impostor (he could not help but think) was a stranger.

Feelings were weird. Years later, he still thought of Jinyoung as his. But there were no other ways to describe it. They had been each other’s for a better part of their most impressionable days. First kisses, first times, first heartbreak – they’ve shared it all. How do you part from that? When all that Jihoon has ever known was Bae Jinyoung.

The fact of the matter was, he was still learning.

* * *

Jinyoung played with the edge of his sleeve as he watched from the far end of the long table. His eyes followed every actor and staff, watched as they greeted each other with ardor. Occasionally he would stand up to do the same but he remained largely in his position, fidgeting this way and that. The chairs were far too small for his build and even as he sat, he easily towered over the rest of the cast. Minhyun had gone to do whatever managers did during their free time and despite Jinyoung’s insistence, he had sprinted the moment he saw the opportunity to, leaving the young model slashed newbie actor to fend for himself.

To say that he was nervous would be an understatement. He was a model, not an actor. He could catwalk his way to the end of the world but if you told him to act lovey-dovey in front of fifty cameras and five hundred eyes, he would rather eat his own guts. Come to think of it, he had accepted the drama offer in a drunken phone call with Minhyun. It had been the date of _their_ anniversary, _would be_ the date of their anniversary if they had made it. His manager had called when he was in the midst of burning all the polaroid pictures he had taken with Jihoon over the two years they had been a couple. He had stumbled upon the box of memories while cleaning his room and it had taken him two months to work up the courage to go through it properly. And when he did, it was with the help of his most loyal friend Jack Daniel’s. By the time he realized what he had done, it was already too late. He had counted on Jihoon rejecting the proposal and maybe the entire thing would be cancelled and Jinyoung would not have to go through a very awkward, very humiliating reunion with the older man but much to his disappointment and curiosity, Jihoon had accepted the offer.

Jinyoung very much thought they had caught themselves up in a somewhat strange situation. He could not figure out for the life of him why Jihoon was doing this. Heck, if someone were to ask him the same question, he would be equally speechless. Was it spite? Was it pride? Or was it something more?

The seat across him remained ominously empty and the name tag that sat there only gave him a bigger headache. Any moment now, Park Jihoon would walk right through those double doors and sit himself not three feet across from him for the next four to five hours. It would be the closest they have ever been near each other since their break up. He turned his attention to the windows and glared at the tiny cars that decorated Seoul’s afternoon traffic. It was still raining, a small drizzle that seemed to be letting down. He heard the large double doors open and the evenly spread out drone of the room suddenly seemed to congregate at one single point.

At the epicenter, there was Park Jihoon.

* * *

A handshake – strong and sturdy. Hands he used to know. Hands he used to hold.

“It’s an honor to work with you Jihoon Sunbaenim. This isn’t my usual gig and I apologize beforehand for any future mistakes. But I really hope that this will be a smooth journey for everyone involved. Please take care of me.”

The most he had said to Jihoon in the last five years. And even then, they weren’t words said by Bae Jinyoung, the boy who was dumped. They were words from Bae Jinyoung, the model. Bae Jinyoung, the newbie actor. Lines he had rehearsed to himself every night before he went to bed. Fake. Calculated. Pretentious. Just like their relationship now.

“The feelings are mutual. Please take care of me too.”

‘Please take care of me.’ He had heard those same words before but under very different contexts. He took in Jihoon’s smile, the way his hair fell into his eyes, the curve of his lips that still visited him on lonely nights. Warm rays fell across their figures, their shadows split against mahogany and porcelain.

When had the sun come out?

* * *

“I choose you. Today, tomorrow, the day after, months from now, years from now, until the end of time, I choose you.”

“You’re going to regret it. You’re going to hate me. I know you will. Everyone does eventually. And you’re going to hate me for making you choose. Go. Just…go.”

“I want you. I _need you._ And I know if there’s one thing I’ll regret, it’s the fact that I didn’t hold onto you earlier. I…I…”

Jihoon held his breath. He could feel every prick of the concrete wall behind him. Jinyoung’s palm rested on the space next to his head in a typical ‘kabe-don’ fashion. He was so close, he could make out the individual lashes of the younger man’s eyes. Something minty was in the air and he wondered if Jinyoung had been chewing gum before the shoot. The hot summer sun beat down on them mercilessly. They were in school uniforms though Jinyoung’s was less proper – unbuttoned with a blue tie hanging loosely across his neck – while Jihoon had his like any respectable school president. He felt dizzy though he wasn’t sure if it was the heat or Jinyoung’s sudden siege of his personal space. Was the scene supposed to be this long? Why wasn’t Jinyoung saying his lines?

“I…I…”

Jihoon held his gaze. Jinyoung’s cheeks were flushed. His mouth parted slightly. His eyes were glazed over the way it did when he was particularly focused, Jihoon remembered. Though he remained silent. Had Jinyoung forgotten his lines? The actor thought back to the script and with expertise recalled the line after his.

_“I want you. I need you. And I know if there’s one thing I’ll regret, it’s the fact that I didn’t hold onto you earlier. I love you. More than anything in the world. I love you.”_

It took all of Jihoon’s self-control to rein in his expression.

Of course, it would be those words.

He heard the slate clap. From afar someone yelled, “Cut! Let’s try that again.”

* * *

“I didn’t know you smoked.”

Jinyoung kept his eyes glued to the sky. It was almost midnight now. They had gone through the confession scene several more times but the attempts were in vain. While the director had not shown it, Jinyoung could tell he was losing his patience. The young model had tried to make it up with the lesser intense scenes but it was a matter of time before they revisited the failed confession again.

“There are a lot of things that I do now that you don’t know about, Hyung.”

 _Hyung,_ how strange it tasted on his tongue. He did not dare tear his eyes away from the starless night to see Jihoon’s expression. He wondered if once upon a time, had stars lit up this part of the world as easily as the lights lit up the cityscape. He would have liked to see that. It was rare to see stars in Seoul. He tried it once with Jihoon. Stargazing on the rooftop of their shared apartment. It was the first winter they had spent together. Wrapped up in tattered blankets and old hoodies, the smell of hot chocolate in the air, the frost of the cold, the smog that traversed the sky. Old scars now. He let out a puff. He probably wasn’t contributing to the well-being of the earth’s atmosphere either.

“How have you been?”

Jinyoung shrugged. How had he been? Was Jihoon referring to the night where he had been dumped like he was something worthless? Or the days after when Jinyoung had to learn how to re-piece his heart together? Or all the nights he spent crying wondering what he could have done to salvage their relationship. Words could not begin to describe the hell Park Jihoon had put him under. So instead, he took in another breath, relished in the buzz of the cigarette, the way it scratched the back of his throat, and exhaled. He watched the smoke travel across the air and when he saw Jihoon hold in a cough, he almost felt sorry. Almost.

Jihoon continued despite his silence.

"About us -"

Of course. The real reason why Park Jihoon sought him out. It was always about saving his own ass wasn't it? He was the same five years ago. Five years later, it wasn't any different. Jinyoung cut him off. "You don't need to worry. I won't say anything." He refused to acknowledge the flash of pain in Jihoon's eyes. Instead, he said, "I've forgotten everything." Lies. Jihoon's favorite shampoo, Jihoon's favorite shirt, Jihoon's favorite color - he knew it better than he knew himself. The flame on the tip of the cigarette flickered.

"Have you really forgotten everything?"

There was a knot in Jinyoung's throat. He could not bring himself to say a word. There was nothing to say. Or maybe there was too much.

"The day you confessed, the day we first kissed, every day after that, have you really forgotten it all?"

Jinyoung hadn't. Just like how he hadn't forgotten their parting.

"Is there really none of me in your heart, Bae Jinyoung? Not even a little?"

Jinyoung ignored him.

“Sorry about today,” he said, standing up. He brushed the invisible dirt off his pants, avoiding Jihoon’s gaze. “I know it’s frustrating to work with a newbie. I’ll do better tomorrow. Have a good night, Sunbaenim.”

The usage of the title did not go unnoticed by the older man. Jinyoung did entertain the idea of staying to catch up with his ex-boyfriend like everything was well. His hospitality did not extend beyond the cameras and he began to walk away.

“I’m sorry. For…for everything.”

Jinyoung flicked the cigarette onto the ground, stomping it out. He remained silent, choosing instead to listen to the rambles of Jihoon. He wondered what kind of expression his ex-boyfriend was making. He was curious but he could not bring himself to turn around.

“I wish…I wish things didn’t have to be this way. I really do. But Jinyoung-ah, you understand why Hyung had to do it, right?”

 _Jinyoung-ah_. How long had it been since he heard someone call his name so lovingly? How long had it been since his heart stirred at the sound of someone’s voice? Funny how he thought so much had changed in the last five years when really, nothing had changed. Nothing at all.

He turned around to where Jihoon stood. He was still in his uniform though the makeup was gone. He looked so much like the Jihoon Jinyoung had loved it was a bit jarring. Even the way Jihoon looked at him reminded Jinyoung of their rosier days. Days Jihoon had single-handedly destroyed.

Jinyoung clenched his fist. He said,

“I don’t Hyung. I really don’t.”

And this time, he was the first to walk away.

* * *

The rest of the filming concluded uneventfully. Jihoon did not purposely seek Jinyoung out unless it was to rehearse their lines. And unless they shared a scene together, they were rarely seen near each other. No one question their distance. Not when most of their scenes were completed in a take or two. Never more than three. Jinyoung was a better actor than he let on (in more ways than one) and despite their initial tension, they could not deny the chemistry that had settled almost forcefully between them.

Park Jihoon was an expert at avoiding Jinyoung. He had been practicing for the last five years after all. But being an expert at something did not make the task any easier. Maybe it was because seeing Jinyoung every day reminded him of days he had already erased from his mind. It was hard not to have buried feelings come to light when he was continuously forced to be in Bae Jinyoung’s space. Take the current scene they were filming for instance.

They were on the bed. Jinyoung’s arms were wrapped around his waist, a sturdy and comforting warmth that enveloped him. He had almost forgotten just how warm Jinyoung could be. Still, it was no excuse for him to _want_ to snuggle into the heat. Instead, he tightened the grip on the white sheets, breathed in the lavender detergent, and thank the heavens he hadn’t need to face Jinyoung. He was an actor, goddammit. How embarrassing would it be if he couldn’t even keep a neutral face during an intimate scene?

The cameras were still being set up as he toiled through his thoughts. He could feel Jinyoung’s soft breaths against the back of his neck. Even and slow. He knew that rhythm well. And despite Jinyoung’s hostility on the first day Jihoon had confronted him, he could not help but try again. Jihoon never really had been the type to give up.

He focused on a loose thread that had come apart from the linen beneath and he whispered, “I’m sorry Jinyoung-ah.”

Like he suspected, the model immediately stiffened. He heard a scoff and when Jinyoung spoke, the air tickled the edge of his ear.

“Now is not the time, Sunbaenim. I thought you knew better.”

Jihoon resisted the urge to turn around and throttle the man. _Sunbaenim_. He knew not a more dreadful word.

“I really did love you.”

He felt Jinyoung’s breath change, the even and slow rate becoming hotter and faster. When the model murmured against his ears, he held back a shudder.

“Really? Could have fooled me.”

“I know what I did was shitty. There is no excuse for it. But it’s been five years, Jinyoung-ah. Can’t we –“

“Shitty is an understatement, Park Jihoon. You _left_ me. Threw me to the curb like I was _nothing._ And now you want to make nice? Did fame dumb you down? Is that why you’re so thick headed?”

Jihoon flinched at the sharp words. It was a good thing none of the staffs were close enough to witness their argument. Jihoon was a good actor but in the face of Jinyoung's declaration, it was hard to school his expression. Before he could get another word in, he heard,

“I don’t know what it is that you have mistaken but we’re not friends, _Sunbaenim_. Playing pretend does not mean we have to play nice in real life. I hope you understand that. That’s what you taught me right?”

Jihoon stiffened. Behind him, Jinyoung shuffled himself up. He heard a quiet, “bathroom,” and then the bed was lighter.

The young actor could not bring himself to watch Jinyoung walk away a second time.

 

Because loving Bae Jinyoung was hard. Parting from him was harder. And letting him go? Well, it was the hardest acting he had had to do.


End file.
